The Healer and the Blossom
by JayneForester
Summary: Asgard is known as the Realm Eternal, radiant and unblemished. However, a mysterious illness begins affecting the citizens of Asgard, and Loki takes it upon himself to find a cure.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, here is my first attempt at a multi-chapter story. Wish me luck! This story takes place quite a bit before Thor.**

 **I haven't done much writing, and I don't think I am very good at dialogue, so I would appreciate any constructive criticism that anyone has for me.**

 **Also, if you have any ideas for this story I am open to them. There's no guarantee that I will use them, but I appreciate any input you have.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

The Healer and the Blossom

Chapter 1

As Loki walked with Thor, the Warriors Three, and their ever present and determined companion, Sif, he decided that today was a day that was worth spending outside. The sun was shining, its rays reflecting off of the gold that was so prevalent on the Asgardian buildings in the city. The temperature was mild, warm enough to permeate the body and give a sense of comfort and well-being, but not so hot as to prevent such activities as sparring and riding.

A few birds flew in the sky, swarming in a patterned chaos above their heads before lighting upon the branches of an ancient tree. The leaves of the tree were a bright and vibrant green, despite the age of the plant, but that was consistent with much of Asgard's flora. Asgard was considered the Realm Eternal, and there was not much that withered and died in the realm. It was a place of consistent health and beauty, locked in a sort of stasis where illness and decay held no place.

That morning after breakfast, Thor had come to Loki and explained his plans for a day ride to the forests bordering Asgard's main city. He did so with such innocent enthusiasm and excitement that Loki couldn't possibly say no. They tracked down the Warriors Three and Sif, although since they generally hung around near Thor that task wasn't too difficult, and told them of their plans.

Orders were given to the stable hands to prepare their horses, and the kitchen staff to prepare a lunch for them to eat during their ride. The group made their own preparations, mostly focusing around gathering their many and various weapons.

Sif donned her silver and red armour and extended the two blades of her sword. Ostensibly, this was to make sure that her weapon still functioned properly, but Loki suspected that she simply enjoyed the feel of the lethal weapon in her hands and the slightly wary looks of those around her when she held her sword. She also ensured that her shield was clean and had no flaws upon its decorated surface.

Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg each dressed in their armour and picked up a thin blade, a mace, and an axe, respectively. Volstagg also packed a little extra food, certain that the kitchen staff had no idea the amount of food it took to sustain such a warrior as himself. Of course, Volstagg's definition of a little extra equals most people's definition of a hearty feast.

Now, heading towards the stables with his friends, Loki decided that he was glad that he was outside to enjoy the perfect Asgardian day. Loki enjoyed his books and studies, but he also liked to spend the occasional day with Thor riding out of the city. Not that the library was stuffy or closed; in fact it was a very open and light place, with large windows and adjoined balconies where a person could sit and read a book in the sun. But a day of physical activity and fun with Thor was worth leaving behind his research for the moment.

The princes of Asgard weren't the only ones who had decided to enjoy the perfect weather. Many of the people of the realm could be seen strolling through the carefully tended parks and riding along the streets of the city. Loki watched as a man and a woman walked hand in hand by a budding flower bush in quiet conversation, and a young, laughing boy scurried under and fence, chased by a few more children, while his mother oversaw the game with a happy light in her eyes.

A small smile curved his lips as he recalled the games he and his older brother used to play under the watchful eyes of their own mother, Frigga. More often than not they would return from a day of play dusty and rumpled. They would hang their heads under the soft scolding of the mother regarding their conduct, before she would sigh and give them each a quick embrace before ushering them in to change and clean up before dinner.

Most of the time the games resulting in their distressing state were Thor's idea, as he was more inclined to the more physical and adventurous sort of activity. That's not to say that Loki didn't cause his own trouble, but he was less likely to get caught.

Loki had been lost in thought as they walked up to the stable, but now he tuned in to the conversation that was happening around him.

"Do you think you have enough food Volstagg? I'm pretty sure you have brought enough to feed all of Asgard's armies. Are you sure your horse can bear the weight?" Fandral was asking.

Volstagg gave a hearty laugh. "One can never truly have too much food. And you know very well my horse is able to carry me and my lunch".

It was true. Volstagg's horse was by far the largest and strongest of the horses in the stable. Its head was much higher than the other horses around it, with thick, stocky legs and strong hooves. The only other steed that came even close to Volstagg's in terms of height was Thor's.

At this point Sif gave her own input. "Well, with that much food we are likely to be attacked by some beast attracted to the smell your lunch is creating. Although, maybe your own odour will be enough to counteract the smell of the food and repel any monster that might otherwise be interested!"

Rather than being offended, Volstagg only laughed harder before mounting his horse.

Hogun said nothing, only mounting his smaller black horse. Loki and Sif followed suit. As Thor mounted his own horse he commented, "Let us hope that Volstagg does not drive away any beast in the area. I for one would enjoy the opportunity to have a good fight before the day is done."

As he said this, Thor lifted his hammer from his belt and swung around a few times.

"You know Thor, it's a miracle you don't knock down your own horse while you sit upon it. Stop waving your hammer around like an idiot and let us get on with our ride," Loki stated dryly, turning his horses' head in the direction of the city gates.

Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three spurned their mounts to canter after Loki's, the hooves creating a racket against the stones of the street. They rode through the city streets catching glimpses of the daily lives of the people that Thor was destined to rule over in the future. A woman could be seen tending to her flourishing garden outside of her house. A man a few doors down was showing his two sons how to properly repair a roof. The ring of a blacksmiths hammer on metal could be heard in the distance, and there was a steady buzz of contented conversation in the air.

The companions passed through the marketplace, where vendors could be heard calling out the benefits of their products and keen old women and smart young men bartered for the best price. The people made room for their two princes, bowing in respect as they rode by. Thor smiled at the people around him, and everyone who felt his gaze upon them could not help but be cheered by his light and enthusiastic countenance. Loki responded to the bows of the people with his own respectful nod.

The young group finally reached the gates of the city, where a few guards stood sentinel, alert even in the peace of the day. As they beheld the princes and their companions riding towards them, they moved to open the gate. Loki thanked them as he passed by, and the party left the confines of the city.

The five young men and one young women urged their horses into a brief gallop, reveling in the freedom of the open road before them. They headed into the woods, ready to spend a perfect day in the perfect realm of Asgard, their minds light and their thoughts content and untroubled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

The Healer and the Blossom

Chapter 2

Loki, Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three had been riding for a few hours before they came upon a small clearing to the side of the path on which they were travelling. They decided to stop for their mid-day meal and dismounted onto the soft, grassy ground.

Fandral and Sif were loudly continuing their debate that had started when to two friends had pitched their steeds in a race against each other during the morning.

"You know very well that I am the better rider Fandral, and I always have been. Admit it!"

"Come now Sif, you cannot deny that I was ahead of you during our race. The evidence is clear that _I_ am the better rider, not you". He looked back and arched an eyebrow at the annoyed women behind him before beginning to unpack his saddlebags and prepare the food that they had brought.

Volstagg walked to the edge of the clearing and collected a few pieces of firewood. He stacked them up in the centre of the field before turning to Loki with a questioning look.

Loki rolled his eyes. The others made no secret what they thought about his use of magic in battle, but they had no qualms about taking advantage of his skill to make things easier and more comfortable in the wilderness. He stretched out a pale hand and flicked his fingers, lighting the kindling. The fire started out with a green hue before settling into a more natural yellow.

The companions released their horses to graze in the vicinity. Their mounts were trained not to wander off too far from their riders, even in the midst of battle.

Once the food was laid out the six Asgardians sat down on the long grass underfoot. They enjoyed a moment of peaceful silence. The sunlight was filtered through the gently swaying leaves on the tall trees surrounding them. Mixed in with the grass in the clearing were small bunches of purple wildflowers. A log was laid across one edge of the clearing, moved there by some traveler in the distant past, and used by many people through the years as a place to rest and enjoy the nature that Asgard held.

Unsurprisingly, the silence was broken by Thor. "Remember the time we went on a trip to Uskral Mountains? When we tracked down the laerlot that had been terrorizing the people around?"

"Ah, of course! Now that was an exciting trip. Though it was a bit cold if you ask me." Fandral replied, eyes lit with the memory. "I very much prefer to adventure on a day such as today, with the sun shining overhead and palace close enough to return to in the evening to enjoy the feast and the company."

"But you must admit, friend, that fighting the laerlot was an exciting challenge. It gave a mighty fight before I struck it down with a blow from Mjolnir."

Sif now spoke up. "As I recall I was the one who gave the creature a mortal blow with my blade. You simply finished it off".

Loki recalled the trip up the mountains as well. They had received reports of a large, cat-like beast that had been attacking the Asgardians who lived in the area. As soon as word reached Thor he had taken it upon himself to embark on a glorious quest to defeat the beast and save the people. It had been one of the first of many adventures that the group partook in.

The cold had not bothered Loki, and he had taken great joy in constantly reminding the others of this fact as they shivered. It probably hadn't helped that Loki occasionally hidden their gloves and overcoats. They got them back eventually, but the colours had been altered. Loki's amusement at seeing Hogun wearing a bright pink jacket had been long lasting.

The others had been quite exasperated with him upon receiving their clothes back, but to make up for the joke Loki had imbued the items with warming spells. His companions had grudgingly thanked him for the extra comfort and Loki changed the clothes back to their normal state before approaching the palace.

As the friendly banter continued, Loki noticed that Volstagg was being unusually quiet. He usually enjoyed participating in the retelling of tales and quests. Even his appetite seemed diminished. That's not to say that he ate less, but Loki noted that he consumed his lunch with somewhat less gusto than he usually did.

Hogun was also silent throughout the meal, but that was normal.

Eventually the troupe finished eating and packed up the campsite, making sure to leave nothing behind to attract unwanted animals to the area. They remounted their horses and set of down the path deeper into the woods.

Thor rode at the front on his white steed, leading the way. Next came Sif on a smaller, but no less magnificent, bay horse. The Warriors Three came after in no particular order, shifting their position in the line as it suited them. Loki brought up the rear on a black horse. They were all accomplished riders, but Sif and Loki were the best, despite Fandral's insistence otherwise.

Loki had difficulty with many of the weapons and fighting styles that other Asgardians favoured, but he had taken to riding right away. He loved the excitement of urging on a galloping horse, and the thrill of soaring over a jump that blocked their path. He was light and agile in the saddle, able to keep his seat better than many a warrior in the palace.

The princes and their friends continued their ride in the forest, not particularly caring where they went. They had all traipsed through the woods surrounding the city enough as children that there was little worry of them getting lost.

For once the focus of their trip was simply to enjoy their time spent outside, without tracking some beast to attack or seeking some sort of glorious battle. Loki enjoyed the ride, putting in the occasional comment into the discussion ahead of him, but mostly remaining in a contented silence.

He frowned as he saw Volstagg turn his head to the side and give a short, suppressed cough. He had dismissed his earlier observations he had made at lunch, as the rotund warrior had perked up and acted normal once they continued their journey. However, it appeared that maybe there was some cause for concern.

It was very unusual, but not unheard of, for Asgardians to be afflicted by sickness. They had hardy immune systems, built up by their natural physiology and by the fact that they lived for such a long time, causing their systems to encounter and built up defenses against many bacterial and viral infections.

Loki himself had gotten sick a few times when he was younger. He remembered spending time in the healing rooms under the kind but efficient care of Eir, the head healer. Thankfully, as he had grown older, he seemed to grow out of whatever had caused him to be ill more often than the others.

While he did not enjoy being sick, he had fond memories of the times his mother would come and sit by his bed. If he felt well enough they would sit and have long intellectual discussions until Loki needed to sleep some more. Sometimes, when he was feeling worse she would read out loud to him while he rested, or she would simply sit with him, holding his hand or carding through his hair to bring him comfort.

Thor would sometimes come visit as well, telling him of the adventures he had gone on while Loki was bedridden, exaggerating them ridiculously to make Loki laugh.

Loki was brought out of his memories by another louder cough from Volstagg. This time Loki wasn't the only one to notice.

"Are you feeling alright Volstagg?" Sif asked, and small frown puckering her forehead.

"Of course I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Vostagg's bluff, however, was ruined by another cough.

"Are you well enough to keep going? There are other days when we can ride."

Volstagg puffed out his chest a bit and said with pride, "I am not about to turn around and head back due to a simple cough. It is probably just something in the air. I'm sure I will feel better given a bit of time".

Sif gave him a doubtful look, but said nothing more.

The hours passed, the shade shifted and the sunlight deepened to orange rays. The riders were now heading back to the palace, hoping to get back before dusk fell.

Volstagg had been looking progressively worse as time passed. He coughed regularly, and he seemed very tired. Sif had been looking back regularly with a worried expression on her face. The others had begun to notice as well and were urging their horses on a bit faster than they would otherwise, hoping to get back to the palace quicker.

Finally, the city walls came into view. The doors opened immediately for the approaching group, the ever watchful guards having noted their approach. The princes clattered back along the streets upon which they had traversed earlier that day, followed by their companions.

Loki had been watching Volstagg closely, looking at the symptoms of whatever illness had affected the warrior. Loki had spent many an hour in the library, studying whatever topic had taken his fancy at the time. He had therefore spent some time learning about the healing arts and had some knowledge in the medical field.

He made note of Volstagg's cough and slightly heavier than normal breathing. He also appeared pale and lethargic, sitting heavily in his saddle as his horse bore him towards the stables.

When the stables came into view everyone dismounted. "Volstagg, you need to go see a healer. You are obviously unwell," Thor stated with concern.

Volstagg made some ineffectual protests, but his feet betrayed him as they turned in the direction of the healing rooms. The other two-thirds of the Warriors Three followed closely behind, with Sif, Thor and Loki bringing up the rear.

The day had started out very well, and the warm weather from the afternoon still lingered. The beauty of the evening, however, was lost on the small group who made their way to the healers, hoping that their friend was alright.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor  
**

 **Chapter 3**

When the group of friends arrived in the healing rooms of the palace they noticed that there seemed to be more patients than were usual. There was a quiet buzz of activity surrounding them as healers walked to and fro, checking up on the patients who were lying on soft beds. Sif and the Warriors Three went to a nearby empty bed, where Volstagg took a seat, while Thor and Loki went to seek Eir.

They found her in the back room where she kept most of her notes and books regarding the illnesses and healing practices that she was required to know to practice her art. Loki noted that the room seemed messier than usual, with books haphazardly strewn across the desk and scrolls piled on top of one another, showing hurried scrawls on their rough surface. Eir herself seemed harried, with strands of hair falling loose from her usually tight bun.

She looked up as they entered the room. "Hello, my princes. Was there something you needed help with? Tell me you didn't hurt yourselves on some foolish quest."

She addressed the princes more casually than many were given leave to, but she had taken care of both of them since they were but babes. She had patched up their injuries gained from the adventures they so frequently went on, often grumbling about their foolhardiness all the while. She did so with a spark of fondness in her eye, however, and it had been something of a joke among them for her to bemoan the antics that led to the boys needing her care.

Both Thor and Loki held Eir in very high regard. Thor had ended up in the healing room often enough when training and sparring, with bumps and bruises that took but a moment to fix. Loki himself was familiar with her ministrations due to his occasional illness when he was younger. He also had spent some time learning from her and shadowing her as she went about her work, healing the people in the palace or researching ways to improve her craft.

Loki responded to her question with a wry smile. "No, Eir, for once we are not here due to a mishap upon a quest. We went for a ride today in the forests bordering the city. While we were out Volstagg took ill. He is on a bed in the healing rooms now."

At this Eir looked up sharply. "What are his symptoms?"

"His appetite was somewhat diminished, and he has a cough." Loki responded. "He seems quite tired and lethargic, and is pale."

Eir stood and gestured for the brothers to lead her to Volstagg. As they did so she asked, "Does he have a rash anywhere? On his arms?"

Thor answered this time. "We haven't seen one. However, we aren't likely to have noticed, because we were all dressed for riding, and could only see his hands and face."

The healer reached the bed on which the object of their discussion was sitting. Volstagg was currently trying to brush off the worried queries of his friends, with little success.

"All right, I need space. I want you to wait outside while I take a look at Volstagg," Eir addressed Sif, Hogun, Fandral, and Thor.

They made to protest, but a glance from the head healer sent them on their way. They had long ago learned that they may have faced fierce beasts and tough opponents during their adventures, but not many things could compare to the determination of Eir when she had healing to do.

Loki remained behind, wondering why Eir had not asked him to leave as well. His thoughts were answered when she turned her sharp grey eyes on him.

"I want you to stay and observe. Make note of the symptoms you see. After we are done looking over Volstagg I would have a word with you."

This made Loki more curious, but he simply nodded, recognizing that now was not the time to ply her with questions.

He watched as Eir examined the hearty warrior, who was unusually quiescent as she visually looked him over, and then used magic to assess that which the eye could not see.

The pair noted that unhealthy pallor of Volstagg's skin and the cough that shook the warrior periodically. His breathing was labored and his eyes seemed slightly glazed. During her examination, Eir showed Loki that rash that could now be seen on Volstagg's arms. When asked how he felt, Volstagg stated that he had a headache, and was tired. When further questioned about the rash, he revealed that it had been there for about a week, but had thought nothing of it, assuming that whatever it was would go away on its own. Eir used magic to take Volstagg's temperature and to check his pulse rate and respirations.

Eventually, Eir finished and told Volstagg to lie down and try to sleep. Once he was settled, she walked back to her office with Loki following.

As he walked through the healing rooms he once again noticed the amount of activity in the place. When he looked closer he could see that the other patients in the area seemed to be afflicted in similar ways to Volstagg. The occasional cough could be heard disrupting the otherwise quiet peace of the healing chambers. Some of the Asgardians appeared to be worse off than Volstagg, worryingly so.

Often in Asgard healers were required for their skills to heal injuries. It was less common that they were needed for illnesses, as Asgardians so rarely got sick. The fact that there were so many people in the healers care who were ill was concerning.

As Eir and Loki entered the healer's office, she turned and shut the door behind them. She then walked around and sat behind her desk, indicating for Loki to sit on the chair in front.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I have asked you to stay." Eir said.

"Yes," Loki replied simply, knowing that she would reveal her reasons in her own time.

Eir sighed tiredly. "You noticed the amount of people currently in the healing rooms?"

Loki nodded.

"Volstagg seems to have come down with the same illness they have."

"What is it that has made them so sick?" Loki asked.

"That's my problem. We haven't been able to discover what it is that is making everyone so ill. At the moment we are addressing the symptoms of the disease, but we do not know what is causing the sickness in the first place."

Loki frowned. If it was uncommon for Asgardians to become sick in the first place, it was even rarer for the cause of the illness to be unknown. With the technology and magic available to the healers they were able to cure most injuries and illnesses. Research was done constantly to further the field of medicine, often headed by Eir herself.

She never wanted to settle for good enough, always believing that more could be learned about Asgardian physiology and healing. She also made a point to learn about the physiology of other races such as dwarves and elves. Once, Loki had even spied a book on Frost Giants in her office. When Eir saw him looking at it she had hastily put it back on the shelf behind her. Her actions then had confused him slightly, but he just presumed that she didn't want it widely known that she was studying such a disliked and beastly race.

"How long have people been getting sick for?" Loki inquired.

Eir referenced her notes on the wooden desk in front of her. "The first case in the palace was about two weeks ago. I made some inquiries among the city healers, who have also been reporting people with this disease. They said that the first case they noticed was about two and a half weeks ago. Since then, more and more people have been showing up with the same symptoms."

Eir picked up a scroll and handed it to Loki. "These are some of my notes regarding this illness. Although the symptoms are similar in all the patients, the severity seems to be quite varied. For some the disease seems to affect them as much as the normal occasional illness does, causing them some discomfort but not anything life-threatening. Others are very sick, needing constant care. There have even been a few deaths out in the city."

Loki looked up from his perusal of her notes as she grimly said that last sentence, his eyes widening slightly in shock. Whatever was happening, it was serious.

"Why haven't I heard anything about this until now?"

Eir responded, "Until this point, we were hoping to be able to identify the cause of the disease and to find a cure. This came upon us rather suddenly, and we were hoping that it would not be such a problem. Unfortunately, this has not been the case. Next week we will be sending a notice throughout Asgard, informing people of the situation and to take measures to decrease the spread of the disease."

Loki nodded, the gravity of the situation once again striking him. "Why are you telling me this? I am not a healer."

At this Eir gave a small, weary smile. "No, you are not a healer, but you do have some experience in the area. I have tried to have some healers researching the disease, but I have a feeling that I will need many of them giving hands on care in the next few weeks. You are not a healer," she repeated, "but you are a scholar, and a quick learner. I am telling you all this in hopes that you would help me to search for a cure."

It was true that Loki was a scholar. There were not many in the realm who were as widely read as the king's second son. He was extremely smart, surpassing the teachings of his tutors at a surprisingly young age. He stopped taking lessons when the tutors could no longer deal with his constant corrections and the pranks he played when he was bored, having already taught himself the content of the lesson on his own.

When the lessons from his tutors ended, Loki simply continued to teach himself. He loved to learn about magic most of all, but would read about almost any subject if the whim hit him. More often than not, if Loki was not with Thor, he could be found in the library with a stack of books beside him.

This was not the first time a person had approached Loki, asking for advice of help with research into some topic or other. However, this time, there was much more riding upon his success that the satiated curiosity of some old academic. This time, people's lives were at stake. Loki thought of Volstagg, lying on his bed, with an illness that had already taken the lives of some Asgardians.

Loki reflected back on the ride this morning, of how the people of Asgard had enjoyed the lovely weather outside, going about their daily lives with smiles on their faces. They knew not of the growing concern of the healers, of the illness that was subduing the proud people on the beds in the healing chambers more subtly and effectively than any enemy or creature could.

He met Eir's determined grey eyes. "I will do my best," he told her solemnly.

The disease had only been around for a few weeks. With study and determination, Loki hoped that they would be able to find a cure before it became very prevalent among the Asgardians.

Loki and Eir spent a few hours going over everything they knew about the illness. The sky seen through the window in Eir's office shifted from orange twilight to a deep black. The stars shining cheerfully down on the city seemed incongruous with the serious mood in the room.

Eventually, Eir sent Loki to get some sleep. Loki exited the healing chambers, pausing for a moment near Volstagg's bed. The warrior seemed to be sleeping deeply for the moment, and Loki hoped the he had only contracted a mild form of the illness.

Outside the doors to the healing rooms he found Thor, Sif, Fandral, and Hogun still waiting. Sif was sitting against the wall polishing her sword. Hogun was next to her, his eyes alert despite the late hour. Both Fandral and Thor had fallen asleep.

When Loki walked towards them, Thor and Fandral were roughly awakened by Sif.

"Is Volstagg alright?" she asked, her voice loud in the silence of the hall.

Loki put a finger to his lips, indicating for her to be quieter. In a soft voice he replied, "He is currently sleeping. He is ill, but we are not able to tell how seriously at the moment. For now, we need to sleep ourselves. In the morning you can go see him."

Thor picked up on the fact that Loki had said "you" not "we".

"What are you going to be doing tomorrow, that you cannot come see him as well?" Thor asked, somewhat accusingly.

"Eir has asked me to do some research of the utmost importance. I assure you, I wish to see Volstagg get well. This is the best way for me to do so."

With that, he strode off down the hall towards his bedchambers, leaving the others behind with unanswered questions. They remained a moment, speculating among each other what was happening and what research Loki need to do, before following his example and going to bed themselves.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry I took so long to update. Unfortunately, school has a higher priority than fanfiction.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor**

Chapter 4

Loki sat behind a large wooden desk in the corner of the palace library, his eyes intent on the old tome in front of him. He had spent most of his time in the studious, quiet library during the past week, intently researching in hopes of finding information about the illness afflicting the Asgardian people.

His work space was littered with old scrolls and thick books, and to his side sat a sheaf of notes he had made to aid in his search. On another smaller table to the side sat a plate and cup, with the remains of his last meal left upon the surface.

Often, when involved in a particularly fascinating or important research project, Loki neglected to attend meals regularly and only got small snippets of sleep. It was not that Loki did not want to eat and sleep so much as that he simply became so engrossed in the problem at hand that he forgot to take care of himself properly.

The second prince of Asgard had a brilliant and unique mind. He absorbed information easily and was quickly able to apply what he had learned to expand and improve upon the knowledge base of Asgard.

Concepts entered his mind and flitted around, touching the knowledge inside and searching for ideas to build upon, like a hummingbird hovering before a flower briefly to gather its pollen before shooting through the air to stop by another blossom. The hummingbird spreads the pollen from one flower to the next, allowing the pollen to fertilize and change the flower into a fruit that then proceeds to fall to the ground, leaving the seeds behind to germinate and grow into an entirely new plant. In the same way, ideas jumped around in his mind and connected his knowledge together, combining and growing into new ideas for him to explore.

During the past week, Loki had applied his intellect to the challenge at hand, hoping to fulfill Eir's expectations regarding finding a cure. He had eaten little and slept less, but he had made progress towards understanding the disease that was spreading through the realm.

First of all, he had analyzed the symptoms of the illness. The first hint that an Asgardian had the disease was a rash that appeared on the arms of the afflicted individual. The rash did not cause much physical discomfort, but was very noticeable and was shaped in a distinctive pattern.

After about a week without any other symptoms appearing, the person would get a cough. Once the cough began the other symptoms followed more quickly. The person would start to feel a bit of a tightness in his chest and he would get a headache. At this point the person would also have a fever.

For some individuals this was as bad as the illness got. These symptoms would linger for another week or two, then would lesson and dissipate. In these cases, the Asgardian would make a complete recovery.

However, for some the illness took a much worse turn. The fever would escalate to dangerous levels and the cough would go deep into their chest. It became difficult to breathe, and some only continued doing so because of the magic and technology used by the healers to give support.

In the very worst cases the patients would have seizures. Their temperature would fluctuate between hot and cold, leaving them oscillating between an uncomfortable, sweaty lethargy and full bodied shivers. Most of the Asgardians that reached this stage did not survive the following 24 hours.

Loki had looked through countless medical texts, browsing through those written by contemporary authors conducting novel research and through old, dusty tomes that had likely not been touched for centuries. None of the books he had read so far described any illness similar to the one that had placed so many Asgardians in the healing rooms.

He had also tried to find the cause and cure of the disease by conducting tests on those who were ill. He had done blood tests with Eir, using magic to try to identify any foreign bodies that could be causing the illness, but nothing had come up. None of the normal methods, or any of the abnormal methods for that matter, for identifying bacteria, viruses, and other pathogens were yielding results that could help them to pinpoint the cause of the disease.

Loki was becoming increasingly concerned. While he knew that only a week of study was a relatively short time in terms of research, he also felt the building pressure as more Asgardians became sick. He refused to slow his search, however, and kept his weary eyes on the small script in front of him.

* * *

The morning following their ride into the forest, Thor, Sif, Hogun, and Fandral made their way to the healing rooms to see how Volstagg was doing. He was awake when they came, and seemed more aware and energetic than he had the night before.

"Hello, friends! How are you this morning?" He asked upon seeing them.

Sif answered "We are fine, it is you that we are concerned about. Do you feel any better than last night?"

"Aye, I do. I will probably not be going on any quests for the next while though" he said apologetically with a shamed glance at Thor.

"Do not concern yourself my friend. You need to focus on becoming well." Thor responded good-naturedly.

"I brought something for you," Fandral stated, and held out a pastry. "I know it is your favourite, and when they served it for breakfast this morning I could not let it pass by without pilfering some for you."

Volstagg took the pastry, saying "My thanks, Fandral, that was thoughtful of you. I will save this for later to savor it when I am feeling better." With this statement his placed the pastry on the table by his bed.

Thor and his friends exchanged a look at this. It was rare for Volstagg to refuse to eat something, and that he was doing so caused his friends to worry.

The group stayed together all morning, until Eir came and told them to leave for the afternoon to let Volstagg get some rest. Although he was feeling better, he still had a cough and fever. Thor made to protest, wanting to stay with his friend, but in the healing rooms Eir was as royalty, and was not to be denied.

For the next few days, Thor and his friends alternated between visiting Volstagg in healing rooms, and attempting to continue on with their normal activities. As a prince Thor had duties he had to attend to, and Hogun, Sif, and Fandral had their own duties as warriors of Asgard that they could not neglect.

As Eir had predicted, a notice was sent out by heralds, informing the Asgardian populace of the disease. The people were encouraged to maintain healthy hygienic habits, and to try to minimize direct contact with other people. They were also told to check themselves for rashes, and if one was spotted, to turn themselves in to the healers for treatment. Although there was no panic, as Asgardians were a strong-willed and organized people, not prone to hysterics, the people were subdued and concerned. The light-heated atmosphere of the week before had given way to worry.

As the week progressed Thor, Sif, Hogun, and Fandral were pleased to be told that Volstagg seemed only to have caught a mild version of the disease. He was still sick enough to need to be monitored in the healing rooms, but he was not in any danger of succumbing to the illness.

When Thor had gone in search of Loki, he had found his brother in his usual spot in the library. He had inquired as to what had Loki so interested that he could not spend the time to visit Volstagg, but when he received no response other than a disjointed mutter, he spared a glance at the books laid out on the desk. Upon seeing that his brother was researching healing and medicine, he realized that this must be what Eir had kept Loki behind to discuss the night Volstagg had become sick.

The fact that Eir had needed help to research the illness concerned Thor. Eir had always seemed so sure of herself in the face of any injury or illness that she had to deal with. To realize that she did not know what to do now unsettled Thor.

Leaving Loki to continue his studies, thinking with an internal smile that Loki had probably not even consciously noted his presence, Thor went to sit with Volstagg for a time.

While he was regaling Volstagg of a tale of when he had gone on his first hunt, a story he repeated many times, but never got tired of telling, he saw Hogun enter the healing rooms.

Thor rose to meet his friend. "Come join us Hogun. I was just getting to the exciting part of my story about hunting with father for the first time".

In reply, Hogun shook his head. "Unfortunately, that is not why I am here my prince." He raised his arm and showed Thor the red rash that ran across the skin.

At this Thor's excited expression became concerned. "Find a bed, I will fetch Eir".

Eir came and executed the same exam upon Hogun that she had done on Volstagg.

"So far there are no symptoms other than the rash. We will have to wait to see how severe your case is," she informed the taciturn warrior.

Thor, Sif and Fandral now divided their time between visiting Volstagg, Hogun, and conducting their daily duties. Their hope that Hogun's illness would be mild like Volstagg's was not fulfilled. When the other symptoms of the disease came they proved Hogun's case to be among the more serious of those that had occurred.

One afternoon, two days after Hogun's other symptoms had manifested themselves, Loki came to join Thor by their quiet companion's bed. He did not ask how the sick man was doing, for it quite clear by the rattling cough and pasty complexion that he was not doing well. Instead, he silently took a chair and sat with his brother, offering his support. As he sat, he watched the warrior on the bed before him. He was doing everything he could, searching every book and scroll relevant to his research and conducting various diagnostic tests, but so far he had nothing tangible he could offer to the Asgardians who were sick. He could feel the pressure mounting, and with Hogun dangerously ill he could not help but feel that he was running out of time.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor**

Chapter 5

The evening light of Asgard shone down upon the grand palace that stood strong and elegant, reflecting brightly off of the polished gold, causing a sight that was simultaneously beautiful and difficult to look at. In the sky were wispy clouds and two nearby planets, adding texture and color to compliment the city that stood below.

The buildings were as imposing and artistic as ever, with grand arches and shining domes that reached above the branches of the green trees interposed among the architecture. Across the deep blue water that fell off the edge of the realm, the rainbow bridge shimmered and stretched out to the Bifrost, where Heimdall stood watching with ever-seeing eyes.

The people of Asgard were out walking among the streets, but the usual enthusiasm of the citizens was dimmed. Asgardians were in general a verbose and energetic race, with a lot of physical contact and grandiose gestures used to facilitate communication between each other. The threat of the contagious disease lay over the land and caused the Asgardians to be uncharacteristically hesitant when meeting others in the city.

People tried to stay at home as much as possible, and those that did go out went quickly to complete their errand before returning to their family. Before the illness, it was usual for someone who had to go out to allow an extra hour or two in case they ran into a friend or met somebody new to spend some time with. Now, a nod and wave from across the street were the extent of the contact between Asgardians.

The tense atmosphere permeated the entire city. Asgardians were a warrior race, and their usual tactic when responding to threats to the populace was to attack them head on, with swords and axes raised high and battle cries in their throats. The disease was an enemy that could not be attacked or intimidated by any amount of sharp blades or burly muscle, and this caused the people more fear than any more tangible threat would. No army could defeat the illness, and instead of placing their faith in strength of arms and weapon skills as they so often did, the hopes of the Asgardian people lay in the hands of the intellectuals who were so often scoffed at by the warrior race.

In the large dining hall of the palace Thor, Sif, and Fandral sat finishing off their evening meal. Instead of the raucous crowds usually inhabiting the hall during mealtimes, they were the only ones present, making them seem small in the large, empty space.

Their appetites were lessened given the events of late. Volstagg still remained in the healing rooms and was improving day by day, but it seemed that for every bit that he got better, Hogun got more ill. Their quiet and steady companion's fever had worsened, and he was having increasing difficulty breathing.

A heavy and uncertain silence had reigned during the meal, and as they finished eating they remained sitting, no one willing to break the unsettled quiet.

Finally, Thor spoke up. "I am going to head to the training grounds this evening. Will you come with me?"

Fandral and Sif looked at each other and nodded their assent. They had spent much of the day already in the healing rooms, but Eir had insisted that they leave to let their friends rest and to get some fresh air and rest themselves.

The events in Asgard had been causing stress and tension throughout the palace. When Thor had sought out his mother and father, he had been unable to see them as they dealt with the repercussions resulting from the epidemic. Not only was the health of the people at risk, but the productivity of the people and therefore the economy suffered. Trade with the other realms was affected as well, as news of the disease spread. Because the cause of the illness was unknown, the other realms were unwilling to risk being affected as well. Odin and Frigga were busy mitigating the damage that the disease was causing.

Thor himself was worried, and became more prone to fits of temper. When he was in a bad mood he resorted to his usual method of blowing off steam, which was to hit something, hard and repeatedly. He had spent much time at the training grounds in the past few weeks, taking out his frustration on the dummies that were set up for him. The other Asgardian warriors knew it was unwise to engage in a sparring match with their prince when he was in a black mood.

The disconcertingly small group of friends stood from the table and walked out of the dining hall, through the maze-like halls of the palace, and out towards the sounds of clacking wood and clashing metal.

Upon their arrival at the training grounds some servants spied Thor and immediately ran to set up some dummies in the firm sand.

Fandral and Sif watched as Thor threw his hammer and demolished one of the dummies. Their prince ran up to the middle of the group of dummies and caught his hammer, settling into a rhythm of destruction and mayhem for the constructs of wood and cloth.

Sif turned her eyes from Thor and drew her blade, stepping her right foot back into a fighting stance. Fandral mirrored her movements, drawing his own weapon with one hand and raising his other behind him up to the level of his head for balance. Sif raised a single eyebrow at him, and suddenly they burst into motion, bringing their blades together to crash in between them.

* * *

Loki groaned and sat back in his chair, one hand coming up to rub his eyes in an uncharacteristic gesture of fatigue. It had been two and half weeks since Volstagg had become ill, and one week since Hogun's symptoms had fully manifested themselves. Despite his relentless research he had not succeeded yet in finding a cure or even something to lessen the symptoms of those who were sick.

He let a soft sigh escape his lips and turned his emerald eyes back to the decrepit text in front of him. He had discovered it in a pile of ancient books at the top of a shelf in the back corner of the library.

Suppressing a sneeze as he brushed the thick layer of dust and webs off of the cover, he mused that it had likely not been touched for centuries, or even millennia.

His eyes skimmed the contents, deciphering the ancient language that had slightly faded from the rough parchment it had been written on. Something caught his eye and he carefully turned to a spot near the end of the book, the rustling of pages sounding loud in the quiet of the library.

Following along with his finger to keep track of the faint and blotched writing, Loki read through one page, then another. Anyone watching the second prince would have noticed Loki's change of posture as he continued to peruse the old tome. Whereas seconds ago he was slumped and tired, now he straitened in his seat, his eyes lighting up with an excitement that had been absent in the past few days. The hand tracing the text sped up, the pace of the turning pages in increased. He stood, half out of the chair as his eyes continued to dash back and forth.

Gathering the book in his arms and taking care not to damage the aged material, Loki began walking out of the library, still reading. His feet took him in the direction of the healing rooms, increasing their pace until Loki was jogging.

Finally, he lifted his eyes off of the parchment and closed the book, keeping a finger between the pages to mark the spot that had garnered his interest. Breaking out into a sprint, Loki burst into the healing rooms, heading straight towards Eir's office.

When he thrust open the heavy wooden door Eir looked up with a scolding phrase forming on her lips, but Loki cut her off, meeting her eyes with an intensity that demanded he be heard out.

"I have it!" he said, breathing heavily with excitement as much as exertion. He lifted the book in his hands.

"I know what is wrong, and I know how we can make the cure."

* * *

At the training grounds, Thor had finally spent his energy and now sat with Sif and Fandral on a fence, watching some new trainees learn basic stances and footwork.

The three made the occasional comment critiquing or complementing the young warriors' technique, but for the most part they were subdued and quiet.

Their attention was drawn away from the lesson in front of them when they heard a distant cry.

"Thor!"

The elder prince turned to see his brother running towards them in haste, abandoning his usual sense of decorum. In fact, not much about Loki's usual pride and dignity were portrayed in his appearance as he pounded up to the fence where his brother sat.

His clothes were rumpled and his hair was flying loose and unkempt, instead of slicked back as was his wont. Beneath his eyes were dark circles, telling of the lack of sleep that the young prince had had during his endeavors to research the disease. His hands were stained with ink and his boots were covered in dust.

"I have discovered what is making everyone sick, and I know how heal them," Loki stated without preamble. "But I will need your help".

Thor jumped down from the fence and asked, "What is causing the people to be so ill? And what do you need me for?"

Loki urged them to walk back with him into the palace while he explained. "All Asgardians have inherent magic in them. It is what enables our bodies to live for as long as they do without falling into decay. Even among those who do not actively use magic, it is crucial for survival."

Thor interrupted. "I know this, Loki. What does it have to do with the disease?"

Loki glared at his older brother. "Patience, Thor, I was getting there. Most illnesses are caused by some sort of virus, bacteria, fungus, or something along those lines. We have tests that help to identify these pathogens, and are able to rid the body of any that are unhealthy and causing sickness. The problem with the sickness infecting people now is that none of our tests could find any. And the tests were right. It is not any sort of biological pathogen that is making people ill."

"Then what is it?" Sif asked impatiently.

Ignoring the tone of her voice, Loki responded. "It's magic. Magic that is acting like a parasite, and attacking our own magic that is inherent in us. The reason that the healers, and for a long time myself, did not think to look for this is that never before has magic in this sense been the cause of a disease. At least, not in a very long time. I was looking at some texts from before anyone alive today had been born yet and I found a record of an illness very much like the one affecting Asgardians now. It even described the rash's distinctive pattern."

As Loki spoke he accented his words with gestures and his eyes danced with triumph at finding a cure and the excitement that always accompanied his finding a solution to a particularly difficult question or puzzle.

"The book did not have an exact cure written out, but enough is described that I will be able to make an elixir to heal those who are ill."

"That is wonderful news brother! How soon can it be ready?"

At this Loki deflated slightly. "Eir has almost all the ingredients needed, but there is one extremely rare one which we do not currently have in our stores. This is why I need your help."

Thor frowned. "How can I possibly help? I know nothing of magic and elixirs." Thor's voice was incredulous, with a hint of scorn underneath. Sif and Fandral echoed Thor's sentiments.

Loki gave an exasperated sigh. "The ingredient needed is a particular type of flower. To say it is rare is really an understatement. I have only heard about it in ancient books, and never seen it. But I know where it is said to be found. It is on Alfheim, in the Eldamar Mountains. Come with me to retrieve it".

At the mention of the Eldamar Mountains Thor and his companions started slightly. While Alfheim was for the most part a benign and lovely place, the mountains that Loki spoke of were rarely ventured into. There were legends and rumors of dangerous creatures and treacherous terrain, and many who went in to the mountains in an attempt to prove their valor were not heard from again.

Loki noticed their reactions. "Come now Thor, do not tell me you of all people are hesitant to embark upon a quest. Usually you are the one dragging your friends and I off on some fool's errand to get us nearly killed."

Loki knew he was being purposefully manipulative. Perhaps it was a bit heavy handed, but Thor did always need less than subtle hints. Honestly, Loki understood Thor's apprehension. A quest to the Eldamar Mountains was not to be taken lightly, but Loki needed Thor and his friend's help, loathe as he was to admit it. To venture into the mountains alone would essentially be suicide, but with three strong Asgardians at his back, Loki hoped that they could succeed in retrieving the flower.

As expected, Thor took immediate umbrage to Loki's insinuations. "Of course I will go! And Sif and Fandral. Right my friends?" He turned to his companions.

Not to be outdone, Fandral and Sif quickly agreed, despite the obvious wariness on their faces.

"We need to leave as soon as possible." Loki stated. "I have already informed the kitchen staff to prepare food, and the stable hands to ready our horses. Meet me at the stables in two hours."

With that, Loki turned and headed to his room to prepare for the trip. Thor, Sif, and Fandral went to make their own preparations. All of them were experienced adventures, and were able to pack quickly and efficiently.

As agreed, two hours later the quartet met at the stables and mounted their horses. A pack horse was also brought along, carrying extra changes of clothes, food, and other equipment needed.

Much of Loki's equipment was stored in his inter-dimensional pocket, vanishing from between Loki's hands with a flash of green magic. Once Thor and his companions had complained and tried to get Loki to put all of their equipment there, but as Loki had pointed out, if he were to become incapacitated everything placed his pocket would be irretrievable.

Thor sat on his horse, feeling the thrill that always accompanied a new adventure. Although aware of the serious circumstances surrounding the nature of the quest, he could not quell the excitement that rose in him as he spurred his horse forward. He was also glad to finally be doing something to help. As a man of action and little patience, the past few weeks of sitting around while those around him became ill had been agonizing. Now he had a plan and a destination. He could see by looking at Sif and Fandral that they felt the same way he did.

Loki, on the other hand, felt nervous as he rode down the familiar streets beside Thor. Although books spoke of the flower needed for the cure, there were a lot of gaps regarding how to find it. He knew that more and more Asgardians were catching the disease, and there had been an increasing amount of fatalities. There was not much time available to spend searching.

Loki was also concerned about heading into the Eldamar Mountains. He was no coward, but he also was not one to throw himself heedlessly into danger. The rumors about the mountains concerned him, and he vowed to himself to keep a close watch and ensure that Thor did not do anything foolish and impulsive.

There was one other reason for why Loki was worried about this quest. He glanced down at his sleeves, noticing one was riding up a bit. He hastily pulled it down, covering the distinctive, red rash that was visible upon his forearm.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, and followed this story.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor**

Chapter 6

The rainbow bridge scintillated under the hooves of the horses galloping towards the Bifrost, where Heimdall stood stock still in front of the entrance. Golden eyes looked out from beneath golden armour, and a large two-handed sword was supported in his hands, with the tip touching between his feet.

Thor, Loki, Sif, and Fandral slowed their horses and dismounted to speak with the Gatekeeper. As they walked forward Fandral smiled slightly, recalling Volstagg's awe and slight fear of the power of Heimdall.

"We must go to Alfheim," Thor told Heimdall abruptly. Loki rolled his eyes at the lack of tact and conversational skills of his older brother.

"As you wish, my prince," Heimdall replied in his deep, smooth voice. It was unnecessary for the travelers to explain their purpose, as Heimdall had already witnessed their conversation about the cure with his farseeing sight.

"Be cautious about interacting with the population of Alfheim." Heimdall warned the group as they led their horses into the Bifrost and prepared to be sent away. "We cannot risk spreading the disease to other realms."

As Heimdall spoke, he turned his gaze upon Loki, who gave an almost imperceptible nod, realizing that the Gatekeeper knew that he had contracted the illness.

Technically, Loki should have reported to Eir as soon as he spotted the rash on his arms, and subsequently been quarantined to the healing rooms. But he knew that he was likely the only one who could succeed in finding the flower that was needed for the cure. Thor and his friends wouldn't be able to identify the blossom correctly, nor would any other soldiers who were available to go on a quest. On top of this, Loki suspected that magic would be needed to find and retrieve the flower. Any Asgardians capable of doing magic were most likely already too involved with aiding the healers care for the ill people.

Loki also wanted to go on the quest for more selfish reasons. Finally, here was a way in which he could aid Asgard that could not be done by might and combat skill. Whenever strength of arm was needed for the good of Asgard, Thor was always the first choice. Loki was actually a very capable warrior, but his brother dazzled the people with his mighty hammer and brute force. Even if Loki played a vital role in whatever quest they had completed, it was Thor who received the praise and adoration of the populace.

This time, however, it was Loki leading the quest. He was the one who had discovered the cure, and he wanted to make sure he was the one to make the application of the cure possible. He was determined to make his people, and his father, proud.

Loki faced forward, preparing himself for travel. Behind him, Heimdall strode to the raised platform and activated the Bifrost.

Loki and his companions were engulfed in light and jerked forwards. They sped through space towards Alfheim, remaining still and letting the stars and planets rush by them outside the column created by the Bifrost.

When they arrived on Alfheim, they found that Heimdall had set them down on a grassy plain far from any of the Light Elves inhabiting the realm. In the distance the main city of Alfheim could be seen.

Whereas Asgardians had constructed their city to be grand and intimidating, with gold plating emphasizing the wealth of the realm, the Light Elves were far less pretentious in their design. The architecture served to enhance the natural beauty of the realm, with buildings of muted green and brown blending in with the surrounding trees. Nothing had been cut down or removed during the building of the city; instead the buildings were constructed around the existing nature.

Loki allowed his gaze to rest upon the city for a moment, recalling past visits that he had made to the realm of the Light Elves. He loved to come to Alfheim, where he could study and learn magic without the scorn of warriors who found the art to be beneath them. The Light Elves were a gracious and peaceful race, who were filled with an ethereal joy and love of life. They were free with the knowledge they had, and welcomed Loki into their midst eagerly, happy to teach such an eager pupil.

Eventually Loki turned away to survey their more immediate surroundings. Between them and the city was a large plain with rolling hills and golden grass rippling in the slight breeze. Looking the opposite direction, Loki saw that they were near the border of a forest. Thor and Loki had gone on many adventures in the Elven forests, hunting under the boughs or, when they were young, making up stories of grand battles and dashing victories.

In the far distance, rising up behind the forest, were the Eldamar Mountains. Much of Alfheim was beautiful and harmless, but the Eldamar Mountains appeared cold and daunting, with jagged peaks capped with snow.

The groups stood still for a moment, contemplating their destination with unease in their hearts but boldness on their faces. Sif was the first to move, calling after her as she mounted her horse and rode away. "Come on then! We do not have time to waste."

The remaining members followed her lead, and soon the group was riding into the depths of the forest.

* * *

The gentle sun of Alfheim had dipped below the horizon when Loki decided that they should set up camp for the night. It was not very dark, as the two moons in the sky shed enough light to even penetrate to the ground under the trees.

In fact, Alfheim was never truly dark. During the day the sun unfailingly shone down on the realm, and at night the moons cast enough light to see by. Even if the light of those celestial bodies was shut out by clouds, the fauna itself glowed softly with an inner light.

Camp was quickly and efficiently set up, with the ease of those who have done so countless times. The companions sat around a fire eating their dinner. Without Volstagg and Hogun, the group seemed dishearteningly small.

Volstagg had been much improved by the time they had set out on their quest. When Thor had informed him of where they were going and why they were leaving, he had nearly left his bed in an attempt to join them. Eir, however, had eyes like an eagle that spotted him before he could get away, and the determination to send him meekly to his bed to finish recovering.

Hogun's condition hadn't changed before the trip to Alfheim. He had a high fever and he was having some difficulty breathing. Loki and the others could only hope that he would hold out until they returned and made the cure.

After they had eaten, Thor, Sif, and Fandral went to prepare for sleep. They unrolled their sleeping mats and laid down, speaking among themselves for a time before they quieted and their breathing deepened.

Loki stayed by the fire and reached into his inter-dimensional pocket to retrieve his notes on the disease and the text in which he had discovered the cure. He spent the following two hours analyzing the information about the elixir. The nature of the book, being a historical not a medical record, meant that there were no step by step instructions for the creation of the cure.

Eir had copied out what was written in the book, and was studying the contents as well. When Loki returned with the flower, they hoped to compare notes and be able to find out how to brew the elixir.

As Loki continued his research he made sure that his notes were legible and decipherable. He did not know how long it would take to find the blossom, but he knew that he had contracted the disease and wanted to be sure that Eir could understand his notes if he were unable to pass along the information himself.

The flower that they were searching for was called a vietablóm. According to the ancient tome, its petals were the key ingredient in the elixir that would cure the ill Asgardians. There was a rough sketch provided in the book, but Loki realized that he would most likely be able to recognize the plant through its magical properties.

Loki glanced over at his companions, and after making sure that they were asleep, he rolled up his sleeves to examine the rash on his arms. It had appeared two days before, which meant that he had about five days until he began to exhibit other symptoms.

Loki pushed his sleeves down and stored his books and notes in his pocket with a green flash. Then he closed his eyes and focused on reaching into his magic. The first thing Loki had been taught as a child when it was discovered he had a talent and passion for magic was to sink into himself to sense his magic.

Every sorcerer had a distinct feel and shape to their magic. Once, Frigga had shown Loki her own magic. It was warm and soft, and seemed almost fragile until one delved deeper to discover that it was powerful in its own right, much like Frigga herself.

Odin had never brought Loki to feel his magic, but it was so strong that if Loki was near to Odin he could sense the age and strength of it. It was like stone, unshakeable and firm.

Loki could even sense his brother's magic, although Thor was decidedly not a sorcerer. It was as subtle as Thor himself, which is to say, not subtle at all, tasting metallic and smelling of the air after rain. It closely echoed Thor's emotions, and could seem as bright as the sun in an Asgardian summer, or as dark as the sky during a raging storm.

Loki's own magic was playful and animated. It was hard to catch, and even harder to keep still to be examined. It was youthful, but even so it was powerful, and was stronger than most other sorcerers in the nine realms.

Loki tracked down his magic and slowly felt around the edges. Because the disease causing the people of Asgard to become sick was caused by a sort of magical parasite, Loki had been monitoring his own magic closely. As of yet he had not been able to sense anything foreign within his magic but –

There.

Loki suddenly felt an almost intangible presence on the outskirts of his magic. It was too small to even articulate what was different, just a lingering sense of wrongness that caused his magic to flicker like dancing tongues of fire. Loki tried to delve deeper to better understand what was happening, but his magic twirled away from him and he lost his focus and was jolted to awareness.

He opened his eyes to find himself seated on the mossy ground, with the campfire nothing but glowing embers before him. After a few minutes spent contemplating the parasite in his magic he rose and headed to where his older brother lay. He stretched himself out on his own mat and joined his companions in sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: For anyone who is curious, I got the name for the Eldamar Mountains while reading about Alfheim on Wikipedia. Apparently, Tolkien anglicized Alfheim to be Elvenhome, or Eldamar in Elven speech. I thought this was cool, so I used the name for my story.**

 **The name vietablóm comes from the Old Norse words for "help" which is veita, and "flower" which is** **blóm.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and is enjoying the holidays! Happy New Year!  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor**

Chapter 7

After two days of easy travelling through the forest of Alfheim Loki and the others reached the feet of the Eldamar Mountains. Rocky, black peaks rose into the sky thousands of feet above the group of travelers, accented sharply by the white snow that clung to the surface. The sun was blocked out by a thick layer of stormy grey clouds, which lay heavily upon the jagged tips of the terrain like a blanket dulling the edge of a knife.

Under the ominous shadow of these mountains Thor, Loki, Sif, and Fandral made their final preparations before venturing into the most dangerous part of their quest.

"We will need to leave the horses here. They will not be able to navigate the uneven ground in the mountains," stated Sif.

"We can set up a base camp here," Loki instructed. "Without the horses we will not be able to carry everything."

The group went about organizing the materials they had, prioritizing the things they thought they would need for their trip.

"How long do you think it will take to find the vietablóm Loki?" Thor asked.

Loki paused in his packing to consider the question. "Honestly, I'm not completely sure. The information provided regarding its location is rather incomplete. I hope we will be able to find it within the next week."

He kept to himself the fact that if it took longer than a week he would no longer be of any help. The rash had been on his arms for four days now, and judging by the other cases he would begin to exhibit more symptoms in about three days.

"Incomplete?" Fandral questioned with incredulity. "What does that mean? How are you going to find the vietablóm if you don't know where it is? The entirety of the Eldamar Mountains is a rather large area to explore in case you hadn't noticed."

At this Loki gave an exasperated sigh. "I am well aware of the fact, Fandral. I have a good idea of where to start. Once we get deeper into the mountains it will be harder to know where to go, but I think with magic I will be able to locate the vietablóm."

"Magic?" Sif said scornfully.

"Yes, magic. Alfheim is a very magical realm," Loki explained. "Like Asgard, magic is prevalent everywhere, in the people, in the plants, the ground, in the very elements that make up matter. But the magic in Asgard is very passive. It helps with the longevity of life, preventing us from dying and materials from decaying and corroding, but it is mostly dormant otherwise, unless drawn upon by sorcerers like myself. Here in Alfheim the magic is more active and present. In the city and the forest we just travelled through it is benign and friendly. It gives life and light. The luminescence from the plants is from the magic inside them. Here, near the Eldamar Mountains, the magic is more oppressive, dangerous. I think even you, though not sorcerers, can feel the difference."

At this, Sif glanced around warily. Certainly, as they had approached the mountains she had felt more apprehensive, but she had attributed the feeling to the urgency of the quest and the gloomy atmosphere under the mountain's shadow.

Fandral had been thinking along the same lines. "I will admit that the closer to the mountains we travel the more they inspire a certain unease, but surely that is not to do with magic."

"What you describe as unease I can feel much more sharply due to my training as a sorcerer. It is most definitely the effects of the magic that you are feeling."

Loki finished placing what he needed in his inter-dimensional pocket with an emerald flash and saw that the others were almost ready to leave. The horses had been left untethered so that they could find food and water. They would remain in the general vicinity of the base camp to be ready for their riders when they returned. The rest of the Asgardian's equipment and food that was not being taken into the mountains was tied tightly together and hung from a tree to keep it from being ransacked by any enterprising wildlife.

As Thor, Sif, and Fandral completed their last checks that they had everything they needed and tightened the straps on their packs, Loki finished his explanation about finding the vietablóm.

"The same way that I could feel the magic of the forest, and can feel the decidedly more unpleasant magic of the mountains, I will be able to sense the presence of the blossom. Its healing nature should cause the magic inherent in it to parallel that nature, and will contrast with the mountain's magic."

Sif and Fandral looked doubtful, but Thor gave Loki a firm slap on his back, exclaiming, "I'm sure Loki knows what he is doing. He is much more knowledgeable in this area than we are, I will freely admit that. I trust my brother to find the flower."

Loki felt a warm glow in response to Thor's comments. Thor might scoff at Loki's use of magic most of the time, but he never showed anything but trust in his younger brother. Loki would never openly admit it, but his brother's faith in him was worth more than all the books and knowledge in the Nine Realms.

Thor was extremely open in his emotions and free with smiles and gestures of affection. A manly hit on the shoulder or a grasp at the nape of the neck were common when in the older prince's presence. Loki, on the other hand, was reserved, even described as cold by those around him. Certainly, he could be charming and verbose when it suited him, and he could talk in circles and spin tales to make one's head spin, but sincere, explicit signs of affection were rare. He preferred to show his love for those close to him in less obvious ways.

Once, on Thor's 500th birthday, the day he would be declared an adult and a fully trained warrior of Asgard the older brother had had an encounter with some newly trained soldiers. Thor's charisma and good nature had helped him to be greatly liked among the people of Asgard. However, his arrogance had caused these soldiers to be jealous and spiteful of their prince.

While Thor was on the training grounds, they had ambushed him. Thor was an extremely talented warrior even at that young age, but even strong fighters can be overwhelmed by numbers. Also, Thor's hammer, while well suited for raining devastating blows upon an enemy, was difficult to use to its full effectiveness in the context of the training grounds. Injuries were common during training, but permanent harm or death was unaccepted. Thor was unwilling to seriously harm his attackers, so he restrained his use of his hammer, handicapping himself during the fight.

The soldiers did not injure Thor, but they forced him to yield amid taunts and jeers. To such a prideful man as Thor this was humiliating. The elder prince was in a black mood when Loki had sought him out later in the day before the celebration feast. With some urging Thor told his younger brother what had happened. Loki, rather than using sentimental platitudes to comfort his brother, had distracted him with Thor's favourite stories, using magic to illustrate the events and his eloquence to draw Thor's thoughts away from the earlier happenings.

When the time of the feast came, the brothers went together to sit at the high table at the front of the banquet hall. From this position, they could see all of the Asgardians eating the delicious food placed in front of them, including the soldiers that had attacked Thor. The blond prince had been ignoring the group save for the occasional angry glare sent in their direction.

He had heard a commotion coming from that end of the hall and looked up to see that the soldiers' hair had all been turned into garish shades of yellow, green, blue, and pink. Thor had continued to watch as they looked upon their laughing companions at first with confusion, and then with anger as they realized what had happened. However, when the attackers tried to speak to those around them, all that came out of their mouths was indecipherable gibberish.

The soldiers became more and more agitated and frustrated, but when they went to draw their weapons, as was any Asgardian's wont when confronted with an uncomfortable situation, they dropped their swords and cried out as if the hilts burned them.

By this point the attention of everyone in the hall had been drawn to the antics of the group of soldiers, and laughter followed them out the door as they left in embarrassment. Thor had turned to Loki with laughter in his eyes and a smile on his lips and had asked if Loki was responsible for the prank. Loki had not said anything, but gave Thor a wink and a mischievous grin before turning back to his dinner. The enchantments had lasted for two weeks, and during that time the soldiers were easily recognizable with their vibrant hair and inability to communicate with anyone or use their weapons during that time.

Thor had understood Loki's retaliation against the soldiers as the show of protection and affection that it was meant to be. Both brothers, despite their differences in personality and means of expressing their affection, knew that they loved each other dearly, and always had each other's back.

Unwilling to show how much Thor's comment affected him, Loki responded, "I will be able to find the vietablóm so as long as you bumbling fools don't get in my way. You are here simply to hit what I tell you to."

Thor laughed loudly in response and went to ruffle Loki's hair. Loki quickly ducked the reaching hand and turned to the path leading into the mountains. "Come. We need to get moving. We should be well into the mountains by the time night arrives."

The group started up the path, going single file with Loki in the lead, followed by Thor. Sif was next, and Fandral brought up the rear. The ground slowly shifted from soft grass to unyielding rock digging into the heels of the traveler's leather boots. Plants became less colorful, their bright colours fading to dusty browns and chalky greens, and the trees became small and spindly. The trail gained elevation, leading up into the mountain range. A chill wind blew, tossing the group's hair and biting into their clothes. The sound of birds faded, leaving only the constant grating whistle of the moving air and the crunch of shale under their feet.

The further the friends ventured into the mountains, the more uneven the ground became. They had to be careful to watch their step, keeping an eye out for loose rocks that skittered down the steep precipice that had appeared on their left.

Sif and Fandral conversed among themselves as they walked, attempting to distract themselves from the foreboding land surrounding them. Thor put in the occasional comment, his loud, booming voice disruptive of the restless silence of the mountains.

Hours passed and the granite land began to be covered in snow and ice. Loki, leading the way, was careful as he proceeded on the path, making sure that he took the safest route possible. Travel became even more treacherous as the daylight slowly dimmed and ice became more frequent. At times Loki and others had to use their hands when the route became steep.

As Loki went further into the Eldamar Mountains, he became more and more tense. The malevolence of the magic of the mountains only increased as they traveled. It was as though the range resented the intrusion of the Asgardians into their territory.

Loki called for a brief resting break after a particularly difficult passage to navigate, and went to sit on a boulder. He closed his eyes and attempted to attune himself to his surroundings. The presence of magic was much more evident on Alfheim than it was on Asgard, so much so that it was almost disorienting. Loki focused on the magic around him. The feel of the mountains' magic was almost sentient in its enmity and malice.

As they were sitting, Loki felt and sudden shift in the magic around him, but before he had time contemplate what that meant and loud, deep crack was heard above him. Opening his eyes Loki quickly looked up, noticing his three companions doing the same, having heard the sound as well.

At first, Loki couldn't see what had happened, as the clouds obscured his view of the terrain above him. But he could hear a few more cracks, then a loud thundering clatter. Loki's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

"We need to move! Now!" he cried, turning and sprinting down the path.

Thor, Sif and Fandral followed suite without asking questions. The group of friends had gone on enough adventures together to trust each other implicitly in dangerous situations.

As Loki scrambled up the path he risked a glace up again. Now he could see what the fog had hidden before. A group of boulders were falling down the side of the mountain directly above where they had been resting. They varied in size. Most were about the size of a man, but some were as large as Volstagg's horse.

Against the massive size of the mountain, the boulders appeared to be falling in slow motion, but the rumble under Loki's feet and the clatter of pebbles around him that had been shaken loose by the larger rock's movements above reminded him of the urgency of the situation.

Loki came to a particularly steep section of the path, but sprang up it and started climbing without hesitating. He heaved himself up quickly, with much less caution than he might under other, less pressing, circumstances. As he progressed one of his feet slipped off its anchor while he had been stepping up with his other foot.

"Loki!" Thor called out below him in concern.

He tightened his grasp on the handholds he had while searching blindly below him for a place to put his foot. Suddenly he felt a hand grab his ankle and Thor guided his foot to a thin ledge. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Loki lessened his death grip on the sharp edges of rock beneath his hands, realizing his grip was so strong he had cut his hand.

Once he was sure he had regained his balance he continued climbing higher, knowing that there was no time to hesitate. Below him, his brother and his friends followed. All of them made it the rest of the way up the incline without any other incidents.

At the top of the cliff, Loki turned around and saw that they had made it out of the range of the falling boulders. His companions watched with him as the heavy rocks crashed into the spot where they had been resting only moments before. The noise was deafening like the thunder that Thor loved so much.

They remained silent for a few moments once the cacophony of falling rocks had died away, breathing heavily from their close call.

Eventually Fandral broke the silence. "Strange, isn't it, that a landslide should happen right where we were sitting?"

Loki shook his head, recalling the shift in the mountain's magic right before the occurrence. "I don't think that it was a coincidence. That was the mountain itself attacking us."

"The mountain?" Sif said skeptically.

"Yes," Loki replied. "As I said before, the magic on Alfheim is much more active than on Asgard. The further we have traveled, the more the mountain's magic has resented our intrusion. Right before the landslide I felt a shift in the magic around us."

"So you can feel if the mountains… magic is about to attack us?" Fandral asked, hesitantly accepting Loki's explanation.

"It would appear so." Loki acknowledged. He turned away from the devastation left by the crushing boulders and began heading down the path once more. "We will need to be alert as we continue to travel. I will try to be as aware as I can of the mountain's intentions."

Loki glanced around at the fading amount of light around them. "We will have to stop for the night soon. Keep an eye out for a place to set up camp".

Thor, Sif, and Fandral followed Loki down the trail in the same order as before. While they walked, Loki bandaged his hand, wrapping it tightly to prevent further bleeding. The group walked, or climbed in some instances, for about an hour before coming across a small cave in which they could spend the night.

There were no more large attacks by the mountains' magic, but they were constantly on the alert. Smaller incidents, such as a seemingly sturdy rock suddenly giving away beneath their feet, or stones appearing suddenly to cause someone to trip, occurred with greater frequency as they traveled. Loki tried to warn the others if he ever felt the magic around him shift, but these smaller occurrences were much harder to detect.

The companions quietly set up camp for the night and ate some food. Stretching out on the hard surface that was their bed for the night, the Asgardians quickly fell asleep. Loki only allowed himself to fall into a light sleep, where he could still be aware of the magic around him. He hoped they would make progress finding the vietablóm tomorrow, because soon after he was going to start becoming ill.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry this took so long! Schools been super busy, and then I got writer's block... Anyway, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor**

Chapter 8

The next morning the four travelers continued their journey through the menacing mountains. Refreshed by the night's sleep Thor, Sif and Fandral kept up a steady stream of conversation as the group walked. Loki, up at the front, only lent half an ear to the voices behind him. The rest of his concentration was focused on the magic surrounding him.

The attacks by the mountain continued, but were more a nuisance than an actual danger. The Asgardians were sure-footed and reacted quickly to any shifts in the rocks they walked upon. Loki was able to warn the group about any large attacks due to his attunement with the magic around them.

Besides trying to be aware of the mountains' magic, Loki was also stretching his senses to look for the vietablóm. He was sure they were headed in the right direction. Within the oppressive magic of the mountains that squeezed on Loki's chest was a thin tendril of magic that felt to him like a breath of air to a drowning man or a ray of light through heavy violent storm clouds. Loki had no doubt that what he sensed was coming from the blossom that they were searching for. It sang to him, and was a balm upon the parasitic magic that was slowly devouring his own.

The morning came and went, and after a short break for lunch the warriors continued deeper into the mountain range. Whereas previously most of their travel had been heading up to higher elevations, now they were plunging down to navigate the crevices of the range.

Loki followed the beckoning tendril of magic along a treacherously steep path. A sense of foreboding had been increasing throughout the afternoon, not magical, but more related to his sense of intuition as a warrior. When the path they had been following plunged into a cave with a narrow, crooked entrance, the feelings sharpened.

Evidently, Loki wasn't the only one whose intuition had thrown up a red flag. Sif spoke up. "There is a foul presence in those caves."

"Aye, I feel it as well. Some beastly creature cowering in the depths of the mountains no doubt." Fandral responded with tone of challenge. There was not much a warrior could do in defense from the mountains magic, but a creature was a tangible enemy that the Asgardians could defeat.

"Well, let us see what awaits us under the mountains," Thor eagerly cried. "If there is an evil creature beneath, let us purge it from its hiding place."

With that statement, Thor stepped forward into the entrance of the cave. Loki, muttering about fools who needlessly put their lives in danger, was quick to follow his older brother.

Immediately upon entering the cave, or more of a tunnel, the path twisted to the side, meaning that the daylight carried no more than a few meters in. The group trod lightly in single file. When Thor tripped on a rock that jutted out from the ground, Loki gestured smoothly with his hands and a globe appeared before them, lighting up their surroundings in an eerie green glow.

The walls of the tunnel were uneven and rough to either side, and the floor was no better. The roof was a few feet above Thor's golden hair, but was steadily becoming lower. As they traveled they were eventually forced to stoop awkwardly as they walked to avoid hitting their heads.

Finally, after enough time for the Asgardian's backs and necks to ache, they emerged into a cave, small, but with a high enough roof to stand upright in. The luminous globe rose up to the center of the ceiling, casting ghastly shadows on the companions' faces. Before them, Loki saw that there were four exits from the cave, not counting the one from which they had come.

"Which exit do we take, brother?" Thor asked with his usual undying enthusiasm.

Loki hesitated. "I'm not sure at the moment. Take a break here while I try to determine the way to go."

Ignoring Sif's raised eyebrow, Loki slowly paced around the cave, peering into each of the exits. He could only see inky blackness in each of the routes, stretching away like the void that stretched away from Asgard's watery shores. The walls of the cave itself were smooth. Upon closer inspection, Loki noticed what appeared to be some scrawled writing, but it was too faded to make out. Some of the symbols appeared to resemble an ancient version of the text of the people of Alfheim, but he couldn't decipher anything more than that. Once he finished examining the exits, he sat upon the floor and closed his eyes, using his magic to determine the right direction.

If the mountain's magic had seemed suffocating before, while walking out under the sun in the fresh air, now if felt as though it were pressing upon Loki like the very weight of the mountains themselves. The tendril of magic leading to the healing blossom had been obscured. The black malevolence of the mountains quelled the small ray of light much like the sun had been blocked out from the cave system upon which the mountains sat.

Loki blocked out the conversation of his companions and focused on the magic surrounding him. He was momentarily distracted from his search as he felt his own magic. The playful tendrils had slowed and the deep emerald was shifting to a sickly shade of green. The realization of how his magic was being affected unsettled Loki. He had always been able to rely on his magic. Even from a young age his aptitude for the art had been evident, and his magic was to him like blood, not always seen, but absolutely necessary for life. To see and feel it weakened was deeply disturbing, more so even than the impending physical symptoms of the disease that he knew would manifest themselves soon.

Forcefully returning his attention to the more immediate matter of locating the vietablóm, Loki plunged himself deeper into the magic surrounding him. It was much like diving for treasures hidden on the floor of the sea, where one would take a large breath and then swim down to the bottom to sift through the soft sand of the seabed, before his lungs would cry out for air and he would swim up and emerge, gasping, on the surface. After many repeated forays into the thick magic around him, Loki finally was able to latch on to a string of the blossom's magic, as thin but strong as a spider's silk.

Loki came gradually out of his trance. Upon looking around, he realized that Thor, Sif, and Fandral had laid out some food across the floor of the cave, most of which had already been eaten. He turned his attention up to the globe that was providing light for the group. After seeing his own magic, he now realized why the sphere shed such a ghoulish light throughout the cave. It was the same sickly green shade that was consuming his magic, instead of the usual deep emerald. Loki doubted Thor and his friends even noticed the difference, as they rarely payed much attention to his magic.

Thor noticed Loki looking around. "Brother! Have you found the way to go?"

"I have," Loki responded, pointing to the exit second from the right. "That is the way we must travel.

He shifted to stand, but Thor grabbed his arm. "You must eat something Loki. Sif, Fandral, and I have already eaten, but we can wait a bit longer."

"Nonsense. I am not hungry, and we need to get moving."

Thor gave his younger brother a doubtful look. Loki sighed. "Just because you can eat an entire boar on you own and still be hungry, doesn't mean that everyone consumes the same amount of food as you. Now, we must go." He waved his hand irritably at Thor to get him moving.

"Fine, brother. I never have been able to convince you to do something you wished not to do, and I suppose that isn't likely to start now." With a jovial smile, Thor turned to help Sif and Fandral put away the food.

Within a few minutes the materials were all gathered and the group was ready to continue their journey. This time Sif led the way with Fandral close behind and the globe hovering near her head. Loki stood up as Thor was about to follow, but as he came to his feet he was assaulted by a sudden wave of dizziness. He swayed for a moment and took an uncertain, jerky step to the side.

"Loki, are you alright?" The younger prince, recovering quickly, raised his eyes to his brother's concerned blue ones. It had taken him more effort than he cared to admit to determine which path to take. The parasite eating at his magic had made his task much more difficult.

Loki refused to let Thor see him weak, though, and quickly brushed past his older brother and exited the cave, responding sharply. "I'm fine Thor, now hurry up and stop blundering through the dark like a blind bilgesnipe!"

As expected, Thor was distracted by the insult and responded with his own poorly crafted retort. Loki spent the next few minutes distracting Thor with witty phrases and word games, until Thor no longer seemed as though he would pursue the matter.

The path they followed delved down further into the mountains, twisting this way and that. At times the way became so tight that it seemed uncertain if Thor would be able to fit his broad shoulders between the cracks and crevices through which their travels led. The air became heavy and oppressive, until the conversation between the warriors stilled. There was a feeling in the air like that of being in a library, where loud words and raucous laughter were dreadfully out of place, except with a much more sinister tinge than would ever be found in a place of study.

After hours of treading through the lightless, jagged tunnel, the walls began to become more distant from each other, and the roof rose above their heads. Despite the more open space, the oppressiveness did not lift, and the warriors' instincts that had acted up as they entered the cave once more warned of an impending fight.

In front of him, Loki could see Sif swing her shield from her back to her arm in front and Thor tighten his grip on his hammer. Fandral did not draw his sword, but his hand hovered above the hilt, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Loki moved forward to the front and stared with sharp eyes into the gloom ahead. With a fluid wave of his hands, the green orb that had been lighting the way disappeared. Thor made to protest, but cut off his comments at a sharp gesture from Loki.

Instead of the enveloping blackness that had been expected with the loss of their light, the warriors realized that a soft orange glow was emanating from the path ahead of them. The group moved forward to find out what to the source of the light was. The tunnel veered gently up and widened even more. The end of the tunnel could be seen now, but it was difficult to make out what lay beyond.

Finally they reached the end of the tunnel. It appeared to open into the side of a cliff, and the warriors now stood at a precipice. The cave which the tunnel had led to was massive, many times the size of the Asgardian throne room. All around the cave were crystalline structures that glowed with an internal orange light. They were what had been lighting the way for the Asgardians. Throughout the cave massive, twisted pillars stood, holding up the roof of the cavern.

Most of the details of the cave were lost on the travelers, however, as their attention was focused on the colossal beast that slumbered in the centre of the cavern. Loki, for all his reading and study, had no idea what type of creature it was. It most closely resembled a dragon, with its thick red and black scales and leathery wings, but it had six legs and three whip-like tails. Its neck was long, with a boney head adorned with a crown of horns and sharp fangs dripping with venom.

Thor, with his eyes alight with excitement, exclaimed in a loud whisper, as only Thor could, "There is the foul beast we had sensed. It looks to be a worthy challenge!"

While Sif and Fandral responded with equal enthusiasm Loki examined their surroundings. Interrupting their conversation, he stated, "We can climb down and sneak past the beast to the exit across the cave without waking it up. We would have to be careful where we stepped, but it would be quicker than facing the creature head on."

Loki's companions immediately rejected his idea. "And miss the opportunity to take down such a mighty beast?" Fandral replied heatedly. "I could never show my face in Asgard again if I avoided such a fight!"

Loki suppressed a sigh at Fandral's dramatics. "We don't have time for a fight, and we can't afford to have one of us get hurt. We need to find the vietablóm as soon as we can."

"Nonsense!" Thor cried, ignoring Loki's attempts to tell him to be quieter. "There is always time for a fight such as this. It would be a wonderful tale to bring home."

Sif, always one to give her opinion, agreed. "We cannot avoid the beast. That would be a cowardly thing to do." As she said this, she looked pointedly at Loki.

"It is not cowardly!" Loki argued, rounding on Sif. He may prefer to use words or tricks over a blade if possible, but he was no coward. "People are relying on us to get back to Asgard as soon as possible with the blossom. If it is quicker to avoid a fight, then so be it."

"Surely fighting the creature would not take so long that it would affect our search for the flower." Fandral scoffed.

"Your arrogance blinds you. We cannot guarantee that we will be able to make short work of the creature, and that no one will get injured. If one of us is hurt our quest will take much longer than we can afford."

Sif and Fandral made to protest once again, but Loki continued, playing his trump card. "Think about Hogun. He was very sick when we left, and every second could make a difference for him. Are you willing to risk you friend's life for an interesting tale to tell over a feast?"

At this, Sif and Fandral hesitated, with guilty looks on their faces. Knowing he had convinced them, Loki turned to see if Thor was also willing to listen. However, Thor was no longer beside him, and with a sense of dread Loki quickly turned his gaze to the centre of the cavern.

"Thor, you idiot!" Loki muttered to himself, upon spying his foolhardy older brother boldly approaching the beast. "Don't do it, Thor, don't."

His pleas went unanswered though as Thor raised his might mighty hammer aloft and cried in a booming voice, "Wake up! Come and face me foul creature!"

The creature stirred lethargically, and opened his eyes, which were orange and burning like the core of a sun. The red of its scales, which had before had seemed like the glowing embers of a dying fire, now shifted and danced like tongues of flame. Upon seeing its challenger, it rose to its feet and let out a roar that shook the entire cavern.

Loki closed his eyes momentarily and heaved and exasperated sigh. "And you did it."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Loki, Sif, and Fandral froze for a moment, watching as the beast swept one of its clawed feet towards the future king of Asgard, before lunging forwards to clamber down to the cavern's rocky, uneven floor. Thor dived out of the path of the attack, then swung his hammer at the offending limb. Despite its massive size, the creature was nimble and quick to react. It lunged back out of reach and unfurled its great wings, which made a soft rustling sound as they opened, incongruous with the intensity of the fighting happening underneath their span.

Predictably, Sif and Fandral took the direct approach in their attack, running straight across the ground before them towards the beats and their prince. Sif's sword and shield glowed orange in the light of the crystals around the cave, reflecting the colour like the Asgardian waters reflected the subdued fire of a sunset on Asgard.

Loki moved forward more slowly, considering the environment around them and the fighting styles of the beast and the warriors. Thor placed himself directly in front of the creature, responding to its roars with his own fierce battle cries. Sif stood nearby, using her agility to dance in and out the reach of the fangs and talons that the beast used to attack, and her shield to guard herself and Thor from the whip-like tails that lashed out unexpectedly from behind their opponent. Fandral was not able to take such an aggressive position due to his weapon. A rapier in the hands of a skilled warrior such as Fandral was an effective weapon against other warriors and masses of adversaries, but against the brute force of the beast he was restrained to quick attacks and retreats, designed to distract the creature.

Loki watched as Sif's sword glanced off of the scales covering the creature, and Thor's hammer struck but did no damage. The warriors were able to avoid being injured themselves, but they also did not seem to be affecting the beast before them in any way except to aggravate it.

Unnoticed, Loki crept around to the side and drew one of his throwing knives. Many Asgardians mocked the use of knives, particularly throwing knives, during combat. The small size of the weapon, added with the style of fighting in which one kept distant from his opponents, garnered much distain among such a warrior society. However, Loki had found that in skilled hands such as his, the knives were an effective and deadly weapon. When combined with his own unique fighting style, the knives could often strike where other weapons could not.

Drawing his arm fluidly back and then sharply forward, Loki released the gleaming knife. It spun through the air and pierced the beast's blazing eye. With a sound closer to a shriek than a roar, the creature lunged upwards, flapping its wings to give itself momentum withdraw.

Thor turned and spotted Loki. The elder prince threw over a feral smile at his brother, eyes gleaming with a battle crazed sheen. Then he race forwards to follow up on the attack, followed closely by Sif and Fandral.

The creature's eye was dimmed and bloody, but the fight in it remained, strengthened by wild rage. It jumped forward and met Thor and his friends as they approached to attack. It's leg struck out and caught Sif in the chest, sending her flying back and into one the twisted pillars of the cave. Thor gave an enraged shout, and leapt forward swinging his hammer, but the creature lashed out with one of its tails and Thor was forced to duck and roll out of the way before his blow could land.

The fight continued, more intense than previously. Sif staggered up, shook her head roughly, then plunged back in to attack, once more defending Thor's back as he and Fandral traded vicious blows with the beast.

Loki jogged quickly over to the other side of the beast, jumping over the rocky ground with sure steps. As he ran he continued to throw knives to occupy its attention, pulling them from his inter-dimensional pocket with green flashes that contrasted with the orange glow of the cavern. Reaching an angle from which he could see the unharmed eye, he stopped and threw another gleaming knife.

The creature, however, was able to doge the attack so that the knife struck his impenetrable scales rather than his vulnerable eye. Turning its head to its attacker the beast gathered its muscles and with a powerful surge of its wings it leapt over Thor, Sif and Fandral, landing where Loki stood with a vicious snap of venomous teeth.

"Loki!" Thor cried out in alarm. There was a tense moment during which his view was blocked by the creature, before a smooth voice spoke over the sounds of growling that echoed off of the roof of the cavern.

"Honestly, Thor, you must have seen me do this so many times by now. How can you possibly still be fooled?"

Thor turned away from where he could now see the illusion of Loki dissolving in a flash of emerald to the speaker at his side. Loki met his eyes and raised an eyebrow, unperturbed by the beast's violent attack.

There was no more time for conversation as the tails lashed out, making the brothers dodge in separate directions.

As they continued to fight Loki considered the best way to defeat the beast. It was too strong and quick to keep attempting a simple frontal assault. It's scales covered nearly its entire body, leaving few places that were vulnerable to attack. Even with one eye blinded, it was able to evade the attacks by the Asgardian warriors and lash out with its own swift counters.

After some thought, Loki called out, "Sif, Fandral, be ready to get it to open its mouth!"

They gave him a quick glance and nodded, not having time to ask him any questions.

Loki took a moment to gather himself, and then with a fluid gesture of his hands he lit up the cave with his magic, so brightly that it appeared almost white rather than green. The creature, used to the soft orange glow provided by the crystals, lunged jerkily away, trying to protect its one good eye.

Sif and Fandral followed up quickly, using the beast's distraction to their advantage. Each raced up one side of the creature, clinging desperately to handholds as it thrashed around. They neared its head and, avoiding the spikes that crowned it, they thrust their weapons in between its jaws, prying and stabbing to keep them open. Thor, standing in front of the beast, immediately spun his hammer around a few times to give it momentum, and then released it towards the creature's vulnerable mouth.

The speed of the hammer caused it to fly straight through the beast's head, killing it immediately. It fell to the floor without a cry, the impact of its large body causing the whole cave to shake and tendrils of dirt to sift down from the ceiling with a faint rustle that could be heard in the silence following the battle.

The was a short pause in which the Asgardians breathing, heavy with exertion and adrenaline, could be heard, and then Thor's bellowing voice rang out.

"Good fighting, my friends! This creature was a greater challenge than we have had in a long time."

Sif and Fandral climbed over some rocky debris to Thor from where they had been flung by the beast's fall. The Asgardian women replied, "Indeed, it will be a tale to tell for many a feast from now. The battle was well fought and well won."

"That is true, Sif" Fandral interjected. Then he continued with a joking gleam in his eye. "Though I must say you were just a tad slow in reaching the beast's head."

"I was not!" she replied indignantly.

Thor intervened before the two friends drew swords on each other. "Both of you fought gallantly and with skill. And Loki, that was well thought out with the light." In a charitable mood, Thor was willing to concede that the warriors had been having difficulty defeating the beast, and Loki's magic had helped achieve the final blows.

He turned to his little brother to address the remarks to him, but cried out when he saw Loki. The younger prince, usually standing tall and proud, refusing to show weakness, was kneeling on the dirty floor the of cave, a shaky hand pressed to his forehead.

"Loki, are you alright?" Thor asked urgently, running over to his brother, followed by a concerned Sif and Fandral.

Upon hearing his brother's voice, Loki looked up quickly and started to climb to his feet.

"I am fine" he insisted, but just as he got to he feet he swayed and stumbled. Thor reached out and helped Loki sit back down.

"Loki, brother, what is wrong?" Thor asked, his bright blue eyes shadowed by concern.

Once again Loki replied, "I said I am fine, Thor," but his second attempt to stand was as successful as the first.

"Yes, and I'm a wild bilgesnipe" Sif stated, looking unimpressed. "Tell us what is wrong."

Loki took a frustrated breath. "I simply overexerted myself. I just need a moments rest and then I will be ready to continue."

"Are you sure?" Thor pressed, partly convinced.

Sif watched Loki closely. It was rare for him to admit to any level of weakness. For him to so readily admit exhaustion left her wondering if he was hiding something further. The younger prince was dirty and his clothes were rumpled, but all of theirs were after the battle. He was very pale, more so than usual, and his eyebrows were drawn together as if he was in pain. His black hair was no longer slicked back, but rather hung down in front of his face in a manner he had not used for centuries.

Sif remembered when Loki was still a child. He had been a small, thin boy in a world where physical stature and strength were glorified. In this she had felt a certain kinship, having always had to prove herself worthy despite her slighter build. When he was little he would use his hair, its deep black colour another difference between him and his Asgardian peers, to hide his face. Small emerald eyes would peer out from behind the curtain his hair provided to examine and study the world around him. Sif recalled how, when she had first met him, she had been surprised by the timidity expressed by the mannerism, but at the same time she had not missed the glinting intelligence that shone through the hanging ebony strands.

As Loki had grown older, and had learned how to battle with words and wit, he had gained confidence and the shy boy was replaced by the cunning and prideful man. He walked with his shoulders back, his chin up, and his hair kept out of his face, revealing his angled, handsome features.

Now, as Loki unconsciously mimicked his younger self, Sif was reminded of the boy Loki had been. Thor, anxiously hovering by his brother's shoulder, completed the image. He had always been very protective of Loki, particularly when the black-haired Asgardian had been younger, and so much smaller than others his age.

Sif was jolted out of her thoughts by Fandral.

"We have seen you use more magic than this before, Loki, yet you never seemed to be affected like this."

Upon the blonde's usually cheerful face sat a perplexed and worried frown. He stood by awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Put Fandral in the middle of a feast or a battle, and he would engage with the company or the enemy, respectively, with enthusiasm and confidence, but he was very different than Loki and was often uncertain how to interact with him.

"You have not the slightest idea of what magic use is more difficult and requires more energy Fandral," Loki replied irritably, "Do not presume to tell me about that which you have no knowledge and are more likely to scorn than not. Keep your limited intellect within the bounds of your equally limited capabilities"

Thor frowned. It was not uncommon for Loki to use his wit and agile tongue to mock and belittle others, but he usually refrained from using it upon the Warriors Three, out of respect for Thor if nothing else.

"Fandral was only trying to help, Loki," Sif defended, "You cannot deny that this fatigue is unusual for you. You have fought many battles without collapsing afterwards."

Loki looked up sharply, intending to reject her statement that he had collapsed. He had merely had a... guided descent to the floor. However, the quick movement of his head caused a spike of pain, increasing the headache that had began during the fight with the creature.

Stifling a groan, he shut his eyes tightly and pressed his palm to his forehead. The movement betrayed him, however, and his sleeve slid down, revealing the distinctive rash that he had so painstakingly hidden for the past few day.

Thor's eyes widened as he spied his brother's arm. Before Loki could react he reached out and grabbed the younger prince's hand and pulled the sleeve higher up.

"Loki!" Thor exclaimed, "You have the disease?"

Belatedly, Loki yanked his arm out of Thor's grip and drew the sleeve down, covering the rash. Looking around and seeing the shocked expressions on Thor, Sif, and Fandral's faces, he realized he had some explaining to do.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm alive! So... sorry for taking so long to update. I can make excuses (school, work, etc.), but you probably don't really care. :)**

 **I will say this: I have every intention of finishing this story. I HATE unfinished stories, and I don't want to be that person that leaves you forever in suspense about what will happen. I just won't make any guarantees about how long it will take...**

 **Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

 **Chapter 10**

 _Previously:_ _Loki looked up sharply, intending to reject her statement that he had collapsed. He had merely had a... guided descent to the floor. However, the quick movement of his head caused a spike of pain, increasing the headache that had begun during the fight with the creature._

 _Stifling a groan, he shut his eyes tightly and pressed his palm to his forehead. The movement betrayed him, however, and his sleeve slid down, revealing the distinctive rash that he had so painstakingly hidden for the past few days._

 _Thor's eyes widened as he spied his brother's arm. Before Loki could react he reached out and grabbed the younger prince's hand and pulled the sleeve higher up._

 _"Loki!" Thor exclaimed, "You have the disease?"_

 _Belatedly, Loki yanked his arm out of Thor's grip and drew the sleeve down, covering the rash. Looking around and seeing the shocked expressions on Thor, Sif, and Fandral's faces, he realized he had some explaining to do._

* * *

There was a moment of silence that echoed in Loki's ears, strangely exacerbating the throbbing in his head as much as a loud noise might have, as he contemplated what to do. A part of him was tempted to simply get up and continue with the search for the vietablóm. The rash was self-explanatory, really, and it wasn't like there was much anyone could do about it miles deep under the Eldamar mountains. Every moment delayed meant he was closer to becoming too ill to help find the flower and develop the cure, and more Asgardians became too far gone to save.

Unfortunately, he was currently unable to stand, let alone walk away from a trio of determined Asgardian warriors. Loki was a powerful sorcerer, capable of magic that many with more age and experience could not do, but he had been placed under considerable strain during this journey, especially in the past few days. With the oppression of the mountain's magic and the internal attack from the parasite, he was battling on two fronts, all the while feeling for danger to warn Thor and his friends, using magic to control his symptoms, and reaching out to be guided to the flower. The finale of blazing light he had used to help cast down the beast had simply been too much.

The dull ache had begun as the group entered the large cavern, and had increased exponentially during the fighting. Now, the pain had roared up in his head like the beast they had just defeated, paralleled by roiling nausea in his gut. The room spun around him and the floor seemed to pitch like the deck of a ship at sea. If Loki tried to get up, he was likely to be thrown down into the dirt by his own weakness.

Even if he could travel, the looks on his companions faces assured him that they would not go anywhere without further explanation. The surprise had shifted quickly to concern, particularly on Thor's part, but also anger. As Loki took deep breaths and tried to steady himself, Thor's thundering voice cut into the silence. "Loki! Why did you not say anything? How long have you known you were ill?"

Loki chose to answer the second question first, as it had a more straightforward answer. "The rash appeared on my arms the same day I discovered the cure. As it has now been about a week, the symptoms have also started to manifest themselves."

Sif sputtered for a moment. "That means that you knew before we left for Alfheim! How could you think that you could come on this quest if you knew you had the disease?"

"I am ill, but not incapacitated. Not yet, at least." Loki answered with a glare. "You would not be able to find the flower. Without me, you would not have even know where to start!"

Fandral shifted uncomfortably. "How do you know you haven't passed the disease on to us? We have been traveling together now for over a week, in close quarters. If this illness is as contagious as it appears, you have placed us all in danger."

Loki opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Sif interrupted. "For that matter, you have placed all of Alfheim in danger as well. Heimdall warned us against spreading the disease to other realms." The female warrior stood tall, her eyes lit with indignation, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword.

"Heimdall was aware of the rash. There is not much that escapes his sleepless watch, or he would not be a very effective gatekeeper," Loki scoffed. "He understood why it was necessary for me to go to retrieve the vietablóm, as you must also. What do any of you know of magic, you who always scorn its use and mock my skills?"

Loki was becoming angry, his emotions driven by his impatience and the aching in his head. He took a calming breath and continued. "We were placed far enough from the population of Alfheim that no one from this realm is at risk. As for you, now that I am aware of the source of the disease, I have been able to contain it within my own magic. None of you will catch the disease from me, and as none of you have shown any symptoms yet, it is likely that you did not catch it before leaving. So, in fact, you are actually less likely to become ill here, with me, than you would be had you stayed on Asgard."

Finishing his explanation, Loki glanced at Thor, who had remained crouched beside him throughout the discussion, and who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. Thor met his eyes, concerned and bright blue touching pained, squinted green. "Loki, brother…"

Thor's mouth hung slightly open as though he wanted to continue. His voice was for once was something resembling soft as he trailed off, unsure of what to say. The worry shown in his eyes and the furrowed lines of his brow were articulate enough, though.

"I am fine for now, Thor." Loki reassured him quietly. Sif relaxed her stance and allowed her shoulders to droop. Fandral flicked his eyes up to hers for a moment before turning to the floor of the cavern, ashamed. They had been so focused on the implications of what Loki having the disease meant, that they had forgotten what the having the disease _meant,_ really meant, for Loki himself.

Loki spared a look at them before resuming speaking with his brother. "The amount of magic I used during the fight exacerbated my symptoms, but I am already feeling better."

It was true. During the debate the ragged walls of the cavern had stopped whirling about, and the nausea had diminished. The pounding in his head remained, and he suspected it would continue to remain, though at a lesser intensity. With a bit more rest, he would be ready to continue with the journey.

"Well, at least now you know. Do you have any idea how hard it is to try to suppress a cough, continuously?" Loki tried to make a joke, allowing a small smile to touch his lips.

Humour touched Thor's face for a brief moment, but if quickly faded, and he asked, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Loki shook his head. "No. Simply continue with the quest as you have done, and ensure that we reach the flower as quickly as possible. We must find it before I become too ill, for not only my life but the fate of Asgard rests upon us retrieving the vietablóm and bringing it to Eir."

Sif frowned. "Your life? Can you be certain you have a severe form of the disease? Perhaps you only have the mild form, like Volstagg," she stated hopefully.

"I have a theory regarding why the disease affects some people more than others," Loki answered. His eyes slid to Thor for a moment before continuing. Thor would not be happy about his speculations. "We do not have experience with diseases affecting magic, so this is not certain, but I think that those Asgardians with more magic are more seriously affected. It acts like a parasite, feeding on the magic, so those with more simply provide it with more 'food', as it were. Volstagg has very little magic, whereas Hogun has much more."

Fandral opened his mouth to speak, but Loki simply continued talking, anticipating the blonde's question. "Hogun is no sorcerer, obviously, but all Asgardians have varying levels of latent magic, and his is higher, while Vosltagg's is lower. The more inherent magic in a person, the deadlier the disease."

Loki did not need to continue explaining. As one of the foremost sorcerers in all the Nine Realms, the amount of magic in him surpassed others' greatly. If his theory was true, the fact that he had contracted the disease was almost surely a death sentence, unless they could find the cure in time.

Thor took a breath to speak, before hesitating. Loki sighed. "Speak you mind Thor. I am not yet on my deathbed, and I have every intention of keeping it that way."

"Well, if the disease will affect you more severely, why are you not more sick?" Sif and Fandral glanced at Thor is surprise. Loki had just collapsed after all. The older brother hastened to explain. "You are ill, I can see that, but as soon as Hogun started showing symptoms he was bedridden. You are weakened, but not as much as he was."

As if to contradict Thor's statements, the back of Loki's throat chose that moment to tickle, and he let out a few hoarse coughs before replying. "Ironically, it is my magic that has helped to lessen the symptoms for the moment. I am aware of my magic and can use it, unlike those untrained in sorcery, to combat the parasite. However, it is my skill and amount of magic that is paradoxically assuring that I will die without a cure. Think of it like a dam. With my skill I can hold back the disease, but eventually the dam will break and the results will be much more severe."

An uneasy silence followed the younger brother's explanation. Thor, Sif, and Fandral were uncertain how to react to the revelation of Loki's illness and the danger he was in, and the dark-haired Asgardian was contemplating the future that awaited him. After a few seconds, though, Loki gathered himself and began shifting his feet underneath him. Thor held out a hand, but Loki ignored it and stood to his feet under his own power.

"Come now," Loki stated, allowing a mischievous twinkle into his eyes, "we must continue. After all, Thor's idiocy has resulted in a delay. Do try, dear brother, to reign in your usual stupidity and let us finish this journey"

Loki's voice was light, if a bit forced, and Thor allowed himself to be drawn into the brotherly banter and jibes as they left the cavern, followed closely by Sif and Fandral.

* * *

After the vastness of the cavern, the twisted tunnels seemed even more claustrophobic. Loki had once again lighted the way with a glowing green orb, after much assurances that yes, he was perfectly capable of doing so and no, it would not make him more sick and please Thor, just shut up and continue walking.

The way was winding, with jagged rocks appearing out of the gloom to trip the warriors and a low hanging ceiling from which those without sharp eyes and quick reactions received many bruises. They came across areas where they travelers were forced to slide their way through narrow, small passages like snakes, dragging themselves forwards with tiny movements of their fingers and toes. At times the group had to climb up or down steep precipices, a slow and treacherous process in the dim light.

After a few hours, the group found a spot in the tunnel in which they had room to lie down, and took nourishment and rest. Loki, much to the others' concern, ate little and fell asleep almost immediately upon stretching out on the rocky ground. Thor, Sif, and Fandral each took a rotation standing guard, estimating about an hour for each shift.

While Thor was on watch, the last before they planned to continue their journey, he contemplated Loki. While asleep, his younger brother's smaller size was emphasized. Awake, Loki had a presence, a pride around him, that as much as dared anyone to comment or scorn his stature. His movements were always sure and quick, his chin held high, and his eyes glinting with intelligence and wit. Many might find it hard to believe, but in some ways Thor was intimidated by Loki. In combat Thor held the upper hand, with his broad shoulders and strength, but Loki was cunning and smart, and in comparison, Thor sometimes felt like a bumbling oaf beside the grace of his brother. He was relieved to have Loki by his side, and would have him to aid in the running of the realm when he became king.

Thor was a capable leader, had proven so many times throughout the various adventures and duties as a prince he had performed throughout the centuries, but Loki provided a balance to his brashness and impulsiveness. Many times, Loki played the voice of common sense when Thor was ready to leap before looking. Loki also proved more than capable of navigating the intricacies of court and of handling the nuances of Asgard's economy and politics, which Thor often did not have the patience for. At times, Thor would watch Loki work and would shudder to imagine what a formidable enemy his brother would make. Although often mocked for his chosen fighting style and use of magic, he had a greater grasp of strategy than many others, and was able to use words as a dangerous weapon in their own right.

Now, though, Loki slept, and with the prideful mannerisms stilled and the piercing, intelligent eyes closed, he appeared small, almost fragile. Although as tall as any Asgardian, Loki had always been thinner than the stocky build of most of the inhabitants of the realm. Looking through the filter of the knowledge of Loki's illness, Thor could not help but be worried for his younger sibling. He had not missed the pain in his brothers green eyes, or the weakness of his limbs as he caught him and lowered him to the ground earlier in the day.

Shaking himself out of his gloomy thoughts, Thor moved over to where his companions slept, shaking them awake. He roused Sif first, idly dodging her swats as she shifted from sleep to wakefulness. Then he woke Fandral, and went to Loki last. At Thor's touch, Loki's eyes fluttered open, and a grimace and small groan escaped before he woke fully and any trace of discomfort was erased off his face.

"Time to continue," Thor said, struggling to refrain from commenting on Loki's condition. Any sympathy would be poorly received, and the reality was that Thor had nothing to offer Loki but empty words and assurances.

The group gathered their supplies and without comment began once again through the tunnel. The mood was somber, but they were warriors, and refused to let themselves be discouraged. After a few minutes, Fandral spoke up, regaling his companions with the tale of his latest duel on the training grounds, embellishing the story obviously enough to make Sif groan and Thor laugh raucously. With the tension broken, conversation flowed more freely, and the darkness seemed to lighten.

As they walked, climbed, and crawled through the cave system, they gradually became aware of a change in the environment surrounding them. Whereas previously, the route had been rough and jagged, and the pathway strewn with boulders and rocks, now there were stalagmites and stalactites blocking their way. The green light from the globe was reflected off the formations, giving the tunnel the appearance of the jaws and maw of some great creature.

The atmosphere itself felt closer and moister, even though the tunnel was actually widening. Each breath seemed to take more effort, the air sucking into their lungs with reluctance. Loki could be heard coughing occasionally, the damp irritating his already strained lungs.

Eventually, the conversation died down, and with the absence of the voices Loki thought he heard a sound. Signaling for the others to stop, he listened closely. Once the noises of leather grating on rock stopped he perceived a rushing sound that echoed strangely off the walls around them. A glance at Thor, Sif and Fandral showed that they heard it too.

Moving forward again, but keeping their steps quiet, the warriors advanced down the passage. The noise became louder, and eventually Sif identified the sound. "I think it is a river. It is difficult to tell due to the echoing."

"I agree," said Fandral. "It must be a fast one, to be making that much sound."

Once they came upon the river, Fandral was proven to be correct. The water cut straight across the path, ten meters below the ledge upon which they stood. The river was swollen and frothy with turbulence. Across the water the Asgardians could see where the tunnel continued, equal to the height at which they stood. To get there, they would have to climb down, cross the water, and climb up again.

The group stood for a moment, contemplating their route, before Fandral exclaimed, "Well, we will not get to the other side by looking. Come on then!"

With that he carefully lowered himself over the edge of the precipice and began the perilous climb towards the seething water.


End file.
